


Let Mercy Come

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Community: mcsheplets, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-18
Updated: 2009-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John had never realized what it felt like to be on the other side of the sacrifice equation, until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Mercy Come

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's:  
>  **MMOM2009** \- Day 18 and **McSheplets** #45 Sacrifice.  
>  Tag for _Miller's Crossing_.  
>  Title taken from a line in a Linkin Park song, _What I've Done_.

_Let mercy come and wash away what I've done... **Linkin Park**_

"I'm sorry."

John watched as Rodney turned away, the tightness in his chest still threatening to overwhelm him. Rodney's words still reverberated through his head, along with the plea in his eyes with all its aching vulnerability.

_I can't lose my sister, John._

Rodney had always accused him of having a suicidal, self-sacrificing streak but, until this moment, he'd never realized what it felt like to be on the other side of the equation, standing in Rodney's shoes. He thought about the egotistic, brilliant man who'd stood before him moments before; thought about the amazing intelligence that would be lost, and, God help him, he thought about the beautiful life that would be sucked out of the strong frame. He thought of broad shoulders shriveling in age; of soft, light brown hair turning wispy and white as smooth flesh wrinkled to a dry husk.

_My choice to make._

Not this time. Not this man. Rodney was too important to Earth; too important to _him_ , and the thought of returning to Atlantis without that brilliant man by his side was so alien a concept that it made everything he had ever seen or heard in two galaxies pale into insignificance. Yet he knew the NID would never sanction the use of another human as food for the Wraith and time was running out for Jeannie, and for Rodney, because he knew Rodney would never accept _no_ as an answer.

_Not an easy decision to make. Please._

Brilliant, egotistic and as stubborn as they come but John had no intention of allowing Rodney to sacrifice himself to the Wraith, not even for his sister. Yet he couldn't throw some nameless scientist or soldier to the Wraith, and he could think of no one who would be willing to offer themselves up in Rodney's place...except for himself.

"Sheppard?"

John looked over as Ronon entered the room, wondering how much Ronon had overheard of the exchange but knowing Ronon's sharp hearing, probably more than enough. "I'm not going to let him do it."

Ronon nodded but the look he gave showed that he knew what else John was thinking. "Wallace started this."

The coldness in Ronon's eyes revealed all John needed to know, that Ronon would allow neither of his team mates to sacrifice themselves to the Wraith. He had a feeling Ronon would do anything in his power to stop them, including stunning them but, instead, had offered John a solution. John's heart went cold at the thought but he could see no alternative, and Ronon was right. Wallace had caused all of this grief and, with the death of his daughter, John knew he was vulnerable enough to suggestions on how to make amends. All John had to do was push the right buttons. Yet, the thought of talking someone into committing suicide, especially by Wraith, was abhorrent. He knew Ronon would offer him the easy way out if he simply nodded; that Ronon would take Wallace down to the lab and throw him at the Wraith if necessary, especially if it meant saving his team.

John couldn't let him do that. Ronon had suffered enough at the hands of the Wraith, and to force him to feed a living human to his enemy, even to save his team mates, was just as abhorrent to John.

A sacrifice had to be made and John knew that, once again, it had to be from him; perhaps not physically this time but mentally. He squared his shoulders and walked past Ronon, aware of Ronon's footsteps peeling off in another direction to make sure Rodney didn't do anything stupid in the interim.

Wallace was every bit as mentally vulnerable as John suspected and talking him into suicide, into atoning for his crimes, had seemed surprisingly easy on the surface. John hardened his heart by keeping an image of Rodney in his mind, especially the pleading eyes and the rare use of his given name as Rodney tried to persuade him.

As his penance, John forced himself to watch the feeding.

Rodney came to him that night, pausing just inside the threshold of John's assigned quarters. Wallace's sacrifice had not been in vain and Jeannie was recovering in the infirmary as the nanites repaired the damage to her body.

"Why?"

Carefully, John closed the comic he'd been reading and placed it onto the bedside cabinet. He considered lying, citing the party line for why he'd refused Rodney, for why he'd convinced another man to take Rodney's place, but the wound was too raw.

"Because you're too important to...to..." Yet still, after all this, that final word wouldn't come.

He stuttered to a halt, frowning when Rodney's response was to nod once before kicking off his sneakers and pulling his t-shirt over his head. The pants came next, followed by boxers until Rodney was standing naked before him. John knew he was gaping, still stunned by all the soft flesh willingly exposed, until something snapped inside him. Enough sacrifices had been offered and made today, and he didn't want Rodney offering one more in compensation for what John had done for him... and for Jeannie.

John stood up quickly and stalked angrily towards Rodney, stopping only when he felt Rodney's hand against his chest, the warmth of Rodney's fingers seeping through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Determined blue eyes held him frozen in place, and all the anguish and fear of the past day found an exit in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands glided over warm, living flesh, un-ravaged by a Wraith feeding, and John couldn't help whimpering into the kiss as he clung to Rodney.

Rodney pushed him away and John stumbled back across the small room, knees hitting the bed and forcing him to drop. Two short steps away, Rodney played with a nipple, squeezing the taut flesh while his other hand slid over his belly to wrap around his already hard cock. Rodney's eyelids fluttered before he snapped them back open, his determination to make John watch evident in his forceful gaze. He stroked himself, precome beading at the tip, legs widening a fraction for greater balance as his hand moved faster, eyes finally screwing closed as he came, semen spurting over his fingers, coating his belly in white stripes. So alive. So very alive that John felt the constriction in his chest finally started to ease.

Trembling, Rodney released his spent cock and stared at John. "Now you can fuck me."

John exhaled the breath he'd been holding unawares, and he reached for the beautiful, pliant body, carefully laying Rodney down on the bed. He stripped slowly, taking his eyes off Rodney only long enough to pull the t-shirt over his head before covering the strong body with his own.

Afterwards, as he cleansed away the evidence of their spent passion from Rodney's skin, he felt the tightness in his chest ebb completely, washing away any remaining guilt for what he'd done.

Wallace had died, as much by his hand as by the Wraith. Yet, as the mercy of Rodney's breathing body, lying safe in his arms, flowed through him, it made the sacrifice of Wallace's body worth the cost to John's soul.

END


End file.
